For the Love of His Life Read Free Page B

done?”
    Marie glared at her. “No. Better you tell him if he wants coffee, he has to come and get it, and eat some soup. Then he can have some pie. That way I can have a little chat with our guest.”
    Veronica grinned widely. “Can I stay and listen to what you have to say?”
    Marie nodded. “I was hoping you would. I may get excited and switch to French, so you have to be here to translate.”
    As Veronica set the timer for the pies she thought, I wouldn’t miss that for anything! And I’m glad I’m not Raul Roderick!
    * * * *
    Raul sat up with a start. In the same nightmare he often had, he was being chased by a man insisting he was his father. His mother had once shown him a picture of a fiercely proud man with long black hair, black eyes and the dark reddish skin common to members of the Sioux tribal nation. In the dream he was always happy to finally meet his dad, but it quickly turned to fear and horror when the man used some kind of weapon on him…sometimes a knife, or a tomahawk, sometimes a gun. As always, he was forcibly reminded his father had never wanted him as he yelled, “I gave you life, now I’m taking it away!”
    As a child, Raul had run crying to his mother whenever that nightmare occurred. The first time it happened, she’d made him sit and watch as she burned the picture in the already full ashtray. After that she’d held him on her lap, soothing him, saying, “It doesn’t matter that he didn’t want you. I did. Forget about that asshole. The only good thing he ever did in his life was give you to me. We don’t need him, right? Mama and Raul, that’s all the family we need.”
    Now he looked around disoriented. Where the hell am I?
    The cabin was comfortably furnished, but shabby by the standards Raul was used to. The bed was only a double, not the king-sized waterbed he had in his mansion. The walls looked like the inside of a log cabin. The curtains and covers on the bed and the couch looked home-made and rural, with patterns of pine trees, bears and moose. It appeared the room he was sleeping in was the only room besides the bathroom he could make out through the one open door.
    Pee! I’ve gotta pee!
    Raul tentatively lowered his feet to the floor and stood up…a little too quickly. The room began to spin and he felt nauseated. He steadied himself by holding onto the wall next to the bed and taking deep breaths. When the room became stationary again, he slowly made his way over to the bathroom. He leaned heavily on the wall behind the toilet to hold himself in place, sweat running down his back. He stopped to admire himself in the mirror over the sink. Deep purple circles dogged his pale, gaunt face. He bent over to splash cold water over his face to wake up, and dried it as he walked back into the main room.
    I’m hungry. I need coffee. I’ll call for some room service.
    Raul looked around for some kind of menu, or even a phone book, but found nothing like either one of those lifelines. He picked up his pants from the floor, pulled his cell phone out of the pocket and touched it to call his agent. He hit the speed dial number and waited, holding the phone close to his ear. Nothing happened.
    What the hell?
    He tried the same number again. Nothing happened. Getting irritated, he dialed 9-1-1.
    I’m hungry, thirsty, and god-damn it that’s an emergency to me!
    Nothing. Even more irritated, he squinted to look at the offending implement in his hand and was shocked to see there were no bars to indicate cell phone service. Thinking that if he was in a motel of some sort there would be an old-fashioned phone connected to the wall, he looked around hopefully.
    Nothing! Shit! How the hell am I supposed to let that kid who’s been driving me around know I’m up and ready to head for the bars?
    He shook his head while he gnashed his teeth in frustration, but the actions combined to make his head throb and his stomach rumble ominously. Since he didn’t remember when he had last